Edward

by Marcus LaGrone

  Edward smiled and let his fur coat cycle in color. That caught both Mr. York and Mrs. Thatcher off guard. “Edward Silverglade.”

  “He is their boyfriend,” interjected Gillian.

  Mr. York glared at Edward with disdain, “A Highlander. Their. Plural. That will never do.”

  “Then this simplifies things greatly,” glared Tatiana. “We can all just leave now and go have dinner with civil company.” She nodded to Zoë and they turned to leave the room.

  “Your third-world boyfriend is more important than your career?”

  “Our fiancé, not boyfriend,” began Tatiana. Zoë flashed Edward a quick grin and she bobbed politely back as Tatiana continued, “And Afon is the homeworld. If you’d seen half the things the Highlanders can do, you’d drop your attitude,” Tatiana fired over her shoulder as she offered her arms to Edward and Zoë.

  “You leave now and you will never make it off this backwater planet, young lady,” Mr. York replied sternly.

  “How many diamond tiaras does a girl really need?” scoffed Tatiana.

  “You’d best not turn your back on me,” snarled Mr. York.

  “You’d best learn some manners, Clarence,” replied Tatiana. She nodded to Gillian, “We’ll be at table twelve.” She spun and headed for the door.

  Clarence York was furious, and furious people do stupid things. High on his “stupid list” for the evening was reaching for Tatiana as they headed out the door. Edward, never one to take kindly to such actions, quickly intercepted Clarence and, with no delicacy at all, spun York’s arm around backwards and slammed him to the floor. Mrs. Thatcher started to move but quickly froze as she found herself staring down the sights of Tazo’s rather large sidearm. Gigi just giggled to herself, her cover still secure.

  “Don’t kill him, Edward,” began Gillian coldly, “he’s not actually a threat and it’ll create a lot of paperwork for Trevor.” She walked over and glared down at Mr. York, “Don’t you ever try to touch my client. Do we understand each other?” She turned and glared at Tazo, “I thought Kadu would have told you, simple kinetic weapons. Don’t bring grenade launchers: they make a horrid mess.”

  “Yes, Gillian. I will rectify the situation this evening,” replied Tazo formally.

  “Okay, kids, scoot.”

  “You want Tazo?” asked Edward.

  “No, I’m fine,” Gillian smiled back.

  Edward stepped on Mr. York’s tail on the way out of the room. He just had to. Outside, in the grand dining hall, Tatiana had already flagged down the maître d’ again and politely requested their usual table. With the efficiency that one would expect from such a restaurant, the three were quickly seated.

  Zoë stared at Tatiana with wide eyes, “You were awesome, girl! Just plain awesome!”

  “I thought you really wanted to hit the big tours,” asked Edward carefully. “I’d hate to think that I spoiled it for you.”

  Tatiana quickly downed three glasses of water; she was far more nervous on the inside than she let on. “There are a lot of ways to make it to the big times. Half the cast of the show thinks I already have. I wasn’t kidding; how much more stupid jewelry do I need? I’ve just gotten comfortable with you two, and I’m not going to let some big busybody from off planet come in and mess things up. Not to put too fine a point on it, but if things get messed up, I want to be the one that messes them up. Does that make sense?”

  Edward and Zoë both laughed.

  “I guess it does,” replied Zoë. She grinned as she cocked an eye at Edward, “Fiancé?”

  Edward’s fur cycled uncontrollably as he looked at the pair of girls, “Well, if you two will have me…”

  Both the girls laughed as they hugged him.

  “Of course, silly boy,” lectured Tatiana.

  “We’ve fully embarrassed the poor boy, now what do we do?” giggled Zoë.

  Tatiana cocked her eye at Zoë, “I thought that was obvious. We eat!”

  “Is Gillian going to be okay in there with those two?” asked Zoë.

  Tatiana gritted her teeth, “I think so.”

  “She’ll be fine,” replied Edward calmly, glad for the shift in conversation.

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Zoë.

  “Did you see the girl Mr. York was with?”

  “Yeah, some cocktail floozie,” replied Tatiana with some disdain.

  “That was Gigi,” replied Edward with a smirk.

  Zoë and Tatiana both laughed at that. Yep, it was time for food!

  An hour later and the trio was starting to get both giddy and nervous. Dinner had gone very well, the maître d’ would not hear otherwise, but they were both worried and curious about Gillian. They knew Gigi was there too, and there had been no disturbances, so it wasn’t as if anything physical had happened. But there were easily several tons of venom and spite being thrown around in the back room.

  “Gillian is a professional,” offered Zoë with as much optimism as she could muster. “This is how she earns her pay, right?”

  “Well, yeah,” murmured Tatiana sheepishly, “But I didn’t make her job any easier.”

  “On the scale of one to ten, how bad of a diva are you, really?” asked Zoë. “Come on, I’m sure Mr. York is used to dealing with people that are far more high strung than you.”

  “Yeah, but I got the impression he wasn’t used to being pushed around. Insisting on having your bed covered in miniature chocolates is one thing, walking out on him is another.”

  “It’ll be good for him, it’ll build character,” smirked Zoë. “Edward, you are being awful quiet.”

  “Whoa, I have no idea what to say when it comes to power players with big business. My idea of solving a problem is whacking it, stabbing it, or having my friends drop rocks on it from orbit,” joked Edward. “Now if we need a barrage of twelve, one hundred and twenty kilogram ceramic coated tungsten rounds dropped onto his car from low orbit, I’m pretty sure we can sweet talk Trevor into something.”

  “I was thinking about something simpler, like letting the air out of his tires,” joked Zoë.

  “I think he had a repulsar lift car,” replied Tatiana lost in thought.

  “That’s easier,” replied Edward. “Wait until he is at speed, and then touch off a small DEMP grenade. The entire coils will collapse and his vehicle will just be sliding on the ground, grinding away.”

  “DEMP grenades?” asked Tatiana.

  “Sorry! DEMP—Directed electromagnetic pulse. It fries electronics in a heartbeat.”

  “That’d put his snooty butt where it belongs,” smirked Zoë.

  “Speaking of snooty butt,” muttered Tatiana under her breath. She gestured over Zoë’s shoulder and, sure enough, there was Mr. York. He had walked out of the room without his precious Mrs. Thatcher. Gigi was still along for the ride; this got a giggle out of the trio. They watched with some curiosity as he worked his way over to the front desk and waited. A few minutes later someone from off the street entered with a package and handed it to him. A signature and a tip later, the man departed. A few moments later, Mr. York and Gigi disappeared into the bar at the back.

  Gillian and Mrs. Thatcher exited the back room and smartly shook hands. Thatcher headed directly for the bar while Gillian waved to the trio and slowly threaded her way over to them. As they watched one of the servers from the front desk approached at the same time carrying a pair of thin black boxes.

  Tatiana rose from her chair and hugged Gillian as she arrived, “How bad did it go? I’m sorry I walked out, he was just…”

  Gillian smiled and held her tight, “Don’t worry about grumpy old men like him. You stuck to your principles, you stuck to your friends, and that means you will be able to sleep well at night.”

  They all giggled.

  “Okay,” blurted Gillian, “Poor choice of words. But you get the point.”

  “Excuse me, ladies,” interrupted the server. “Mr. York asked that these be delivered to you.”

  Edward grinned slight
ly; the server was one of theirs.

  The ‘server’ laid the thin black boxes in front of Tatiana and Zoë, nodded, and then quickly departed.

  “Um, what is this?” asked Tatiana suspiciously.

  Gillian grinned, “I think they are generally called ‘peace offerings.’ Go ahead, open them up.”

  Zoë and Tatiana looked at each other nervously. With a quick nod they both opened the boxes at the same time.

  “Wow!” said Tatiana.

  “Wow indeed!” echoed Zoë with her eyes glowing wide.

  Tatiana reached down and lifted out the object of interest: they each had a sprawling diamond necklace, heavy from gold and platinum, glistening from the cut stones shining in the lights overhead.

  “See, it’s not a tiara,” joked Gillian.

  “These have to be worth a fortune,” stammered Zoë.

  “About a quarter of a million each, if I caught the phone call right.”

  “He spent half a million to say ‘sorry’?” asked Tatiana more than a little incredulous.

  “Well, you noticed he didn’t tell you face to face,” laughed Gillian.

  “Um, what did you agree to, dare I ask?”

  “We agreed that if you tour off planet, he has the first right of refusal to book you. No more, no less. Those necklaces are yours with no strings attached. Yes, Zoë, I know what you could do with a quarter of a million, but do me a favor: wait at least a week before you consider selling it, okay?”

  Zoë was still in a state of shock; she had never held anything so valuable in her hands her entire life. Finally she managed to squeak out a feeble, “Yes, Mom.”

  Tatiana made a fake pout, “He didn’t get anything for Edward, and he was way rude to him!”

  “That’s all right,” replied Edward, “I have you two. What else could a guy want?”

  26

  The four of them, with no small amount of work, finally got Tazo to sit with them and have an after-dinner snack. Gillian hadn’t eaten much of anything and Tazo, well, his eating schedule was flexible at the best of times.

  “Just for my own understanding,” began Tazo, “were you actually concerned that Edward might inflict serious bodily harm to Mr. York?”

  Gillian wrinkled her nose, “I doubted it, but I wouldn’t have bet money on it if Thatcher had done anything.”

  “Nah, Gigi would have flattened her if Tazo didn’t get to her first,” smirked Edward.

  Tazo blinked with sudden realization, “That was our Gigi in there? Now I understand why you were unconcerned about leaving Lady Gillian in the room with them. I did not appreciate the thoroughness of the security at hand.”

  Gillian nodded as she enjoyed her desert, “Trevor is very well organized, and the team, as I have grown to know, is very versatile and experienced.”

  “And I am the weak link it appears,” murmured Tazo.

  “Not hardly,” replied Edward, “You are just new.”

  “And stuck partnered to a wild card,” kidded Gillian. “But seriously, grenade launchers are overkill.”

  Tazo looked to Edward.

  Edward smiled and nodded, “They are a bit messy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t carry it and something else too!”

  “Oh, heavens, Edward!” scoffed Gillian.

  “Never can be too prepared,” joked Edward.

  “Foo!” remarked Tatiana suddenly.

  “Yes?” asked Edward.

  “Sorry. Just realized that it is too late to hit the dance clubs tonight.”

  “Oh, well there is that. Plus you would probably give poor Trevor a heart attack,” suggested Gillian.

  Tatiana laughed, “Poor, poor Trevor. He does such a good job though.”

  “Want to just head back to the flat?” asked Zoë.

  “Sure, as soon as Gillian and Tazo are done.”

  “Please, do not modify your schedule on my account,” replied Tazo.

  “Did you even like your desert?”

  “It was spicy and high in carbohydrates.”

  “Yes, but did you like it?”

  “I thought it was ultimately boring compared to the company.”

  “Oh, that is so sweet, Tazo,” beamed Tatiana.

  “Well, girls and guys, we can head out now if you like,” said Gillian. “I can just take the last bit of this with me. Edward, why don’t you alert the ride, and I’ll take care of the bill?”

  Edward nodded and tapped his comlink, “We are about ready to head back to the nest. How soon can the wheels be ready?”

  “Transport will be ready in less than five. Is Tatiana wanting to work the crowd on the way out? We’d request otherwise,” came Trevor’s voice.

  Tatiana shook her head, “Especially not carrying these!” She waved the black box that held her new necklace.

  “Good plan,” agreed Gillian.

  “We are going to make a straight exit,” replied Edward over the comlink.

  “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

  “You have an ulcer yet?”

  Trevor laughed, “Contrary to popular belief, this isn’t the worst operation I’ve had to play god’s eye on. Or at least, not yet.”

  “We’ll try to keep it that way. Can we get Alex and Co.?”

  “They are in the lobby.”

  “Excellent, we’re in motion. Out.”

  “Out.”

  The group quickly formed up and moved to the lobby. Without breaking step, Alex and Meeka joined the group. Meeka motioned to Tazo, and the pair of Shukurae warriors put on their game face: heads down, tusks thrusting forward and letting their teeth show. It was going to take very little effort for that pair to plow through the crowd, and that was exactly their plan.

  Just as they hit the far end of the lobby, they were met by Mr. York and the rest of his party. He smiled nicely to the crowd as they approached and stayed well clear of the Shukurae. “I will try to meet you all again after your opening concert. I will endeavor to be a more gracious host next time, to all of you.”

  Edward smiled and nodded. That was as close to an apology as he was going to get, but it was close enough. They all took two more steps towards the front doors and suddenly Edward’s senses exploded. It was as if he could suddenly feel every hair on his body and smell everyone in the room. Time seemed to stand still and he could not understand why. But in the back of his brain, years of coaching from his brother combined with raw instincts came clawing its way to the front of his consciousness. His Live Steel armor came up like a curtain and swirled around the party. Its traditional cascade of blue sparks seems to float lazily in the air as his mind raced. He still didn’t understand the nature of the threat, but every fiber of his being was calling out. He would have enjoyed the sensation of time dilation if it hadn’t been coupled with the primeval response to protect against the unknown foe.

  There it was, floating in space: a dart from a 25mm saboted round. Its trailing fins slowly spinning seemed to be mocking him. But it was the nose that worried him. Tungsten carbide was hard and dense, usually meant for cutting open armored vehicles; it was being fired into the crowd of people. The faint red haze behind it illustrated to Edward instantly that it had already gone through one person in its path so far. Edward tried to move, he tried to scream, but both of those things were going to take time. Time was not on his side. Or was it?

  Think! Think! You cannot move fast enough; it is closing at mach 4. His Live Steel armor was still circling the party. First he concentrated on that, and it formed a solid sheet, floor to ceiling. Not the traditional manifestation of armor, but he didn’t care, he didn’t have time to care. He tried to reach out with a Live Steel weapon, strike the bullet in its path. But the weapons he had were hand weapons and biased by the speed of his own arms. He was at an impasse. He watched as the bullet approached and smashed against his armor. The bullet splattered and crashed to the floor while Edward recoiled in pain.

  Time caught back up with Edward as he tried to scream. He watched Alex start to
turn and expertly raise his own armor and attempted to balloon it outward to help protect the girls. Then, just as suddenly as before, time returned to that same crawl. His mind raced as he fought to move, scream, do anything. But his mind instead focused on another tungsten carbide dart inbound on his group. The rounds were staggered in space, left to right, that implied dual barrels. Dual barrels from a light anti-armor 25mm weapon system. That meant most likely a three round burst from each barrel. Six rounds all together, the later rounds would probably pull high but that still meant he had between three and six rounds heading his way and the first one hurt a lot! He had to do this a different way.

  Edward could feel his fur ripple in color. If it was rippling in color at this speed, he was curious what it looked like on the outside. Was this it? Was this him on the edge of going from a Silver to a High Silver? Is this how it felt? Is this what his brothers saw and felt when they went into combat? He didn’t have time for questions; he didn’t have time for games. The round was inbound and he still did not have a plan that didn’t involve excruciating pain.

  Gigi. Gigi seemed to be calling out in the back of his mind. She was small, she was not nearly as strong as most of her opponents, but she always came out on top. Edward had sparred with her many times, and in hand-to-hand she had always knocked his furry tail to the mats. Edward hated it! He was having an argument with his own brain! What was it trying to tell him? Calm. Combat calm. His brothers had always said. Calm. What would Gigi do if she was standing where he was? She wouldn’t block the shot! That was it. She would deflect it. Why stop the projectile when you can deflect it and use its own energy to destroy itself?

  Edward’s Live Steel armor raced forward in a long parabolic arc, just barely making contact with the nose of the incoming round. He focused on the round as it came closer, pushing it ever so slightly as it did. He could almost see the path projected forward in time. Ironically, the less the group was in danger the closer to normal time seemed to return until at last the dart had cleanly ricocheted off his armor and smashed harmlessly into a column.

  Edward had time for half a breath this time, and was in substantially less pain when the next rounds came flying in. It was dual barrel firing a three round burst, just as he had expected. But now, as the remaining four rounds came in, he was prepared. He was no longer scared, no longer with the nervous anticipation of pain. He was a Highlander defending his clan in high form against an attack from “primitive” weapons. Edward was almost a little disappointed that it was Alex who deflected the sixth round. It was almost a matter of pride, but Alex was doing his part. Now was time to retaliate!